


The Club is Sometimes the Best Place to Find a Lover

by silentwhisper002



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Gold & Silver & Crystal | Pokemon Gold Silver Crystal Versions
Genre: Dancing, F/M, Falkner is Anti-Social, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, It shall not die as long as I still live, Janine is Just Bored With Everyone, This ship deserves more love, fatherlyshipping - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:21:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27656783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silentwhisper002/pseuds/silentwhisper002
Summary: Falkner hates being dragged around to any kind of social event, but maybe this one isn’t so bad.
Relationships: Anzu | Janine/Hayato | Falkner
Kudos: 9





	The Club is Sometimes the Best Place to Find a Lover

**Author's Note:**

> *clears throat*  
> Ahem  
> Dearly Beloved, I have gathered you here today to announce that I will be reviving this extremely underrated ship and it shall rise to glory once more.

Falkner was never one for these League Convention-Get-Together things.

He wasn’t much of a people person either, so quite frankly, he could care less about how many trainers, Korrina—the overly hyper Gym Leader from the Kalos region—had beaten this week.

In fact, the only person he was relatively willing to socialize with was Winona, another Flying-Type specialist from the Hoenn region.

But Whitney, Arceus-damn the girl, had been so persistent this afternoon when she’d shown up outside his gym, babbling about some party in Goldenrod, demanding he come. 

Falkner of course refused at first, however, Whitney was one of those individuals who wouldn’t take no for an answer. 

So now, here he was, crammed inside a club full of people he didn’t know, feeling very uncomfortable and out of place. Not to mention the strangeness of the “formal” (insufferable was a better word for it, if you asked him) clothes Whitney insisted he wear. 

Arceus, he hated his life right now. 

Thankfully, the dark lighting of the place hid his cringing form from view of the numerous bodies moving together on the dance floor. 

Well, at least, they were trying to.

Some of these people had no coordination. 

Falkner himself was actually quite the dancer, not that he’d let anyone see it, but it was one of those out-of-the-box skills you picked up when working with the graceful creatures that are bird Pokémon.

Though, if anyone (cough, cough, Whitney) found out about _that_ , he’d never hear the end of it. 

So in the corner he stayed, wedged between the bar counter and a sleek black wall, plotting his escape. 

Falkner had almost figured out how to quietly slip through the back door without being seen, when a delicate hand on his shoulder startled him. 

“Going so soon?” A smooth voice stopped him dead in his tracks. 

There it was. 

The _real_ reason he didn't want to come here tonight. 

Of course, if anyone asked, he’d say it was his introverted demeanor. But the truth? 

He knew that _she_ would be here; this was much more _her_ scene than his. 

Falkner kept his eyes fixated on the floor as Janine—the Fuchsia City Gym Leader—slid around the side of him. 

_Don’t look at her, don’t look at her, don’t look-,_ He repeated over and over in his mind. 

“Well, aren’t you going to say hello?”

Falkner raised his gaze for only a moment and instantly regretted it. 

_Fuck._

At this point, he couldn’t tell which was more red, his face or the neon “Open” sign in the club’s window. 

See, the mysterious Falkner—the man with no interest in friends, mind you—had the _biggest_ crush on Janine, and the way she had dressed up tonight was definitely _not_ helping. 

While her hair and signature scarf remained as constant as a security blanket, the young woman had left her usual jumpsuit for a short black dress, complete with ripped tights and black heels that made her height a few inches taller—the top of her head rising to his shoulder. 

She stared patiently up at him from underneath her long, dark eyelashes. 

The playful look in the Gym Leader’s violet eyes made him take another step back. He’d seen it before during the previous times the two had run into each other. 

It was the look she always wore when she wanted something. 

_Come on, Falkner. Get a grip on yourself._

Falkner allowed himself one extra moment to compose himself before nodding in acknowledgement. 

“Pleasant to see you again, Janine.”

He mentally smacked himself for that one. 

_Pleasant to meet you? Really, Falkner? What is this, the 1820’s?_

Janine, however, seemed to find his formality amusing, as she let out a high pitched giggle—a sound that Falkner hadn’t thought was possible from someone like Janine, but _Arceus_ did it make him love her more. 

“I honestly didn’t think I’d see _you_ here.” She said pointedly, getting her laughter under control.

“Yes, well, you know Whitney. She doesn’t take no for an answer.” He answered, finally finding his cool again. 

Janine threw a nonchalant glance over to where the pink-haired Gym Leader in question was bouncing around with some of her friends. 

“That she does not.” Janine agreed, turning her full attention back on Falkner. 

“But I, for one, am glad to see you.”

Falkner tilted his head in question. 

“Is that so?”

Janine sighed dramatically over the sound of the blaring music. “Yes. The rest of these clowns are either old and boring, or young and hyper. You’re the only one with any sense around here.”

Falkner tried not to blush at the compliment. One shade warmer, and his head was going to explode. 

“Anyway,” The slyness slipped from Janine’s tone. She was completely relaxed now. “How’ve you been? Some time has certainly passed since our last squabble.”

Falkner rolled his eyes. Whenever they met, he and Janine had a notorious habit of getting into it over whose father held the higher accolades. 

“Two weeks isn’t two years, Janine.” He stated matter-of-factly. 

“Well, two years is what it feels like when you go two weeks without quality entertainment.” She quipped back, refusing to give him the last word. 

Falkner threw his hands over his heart, faking hurt. 

“Is that all I am to you? That hurts, Janine, and here I thought we were friends.”

Janine giggled again, and Falkner decided that he’d throw every argument between them in her favor, if it meant hearing that splendid sound once more.

His guard now lowered, he gazed at her with such affection, that this time, the ninja seemed to catch on. 

And there it was again. 

That familiar look of desire made itself at home in her eyes. 

Falkner’s walls immediately went up at his mistake. 

“Hey, Falkner,” She started, her voice becoming a barely audible whisper beneath the pounding speakers and idle chatter. 

“Yes?” He replied, careful of his words now. 

She looked up at him with fierce intensity, confidence radiating from her expression. 

“Dance with me?”

Falkner was taken aback by her bold request. 

Janine, of all people, knew his dislike for crowds or socializing of any kind. 

“Wh-what?”

“Dance with me.” She said again, a firm command this time, rather than a casual question. 

“I-I don’t really-”

“Oh, come on,” she cut him off, “A flying-type trainer like you? I’ve seen you battle, Falkner, don’t tell me you can’t dance.”

Falkner held a wild look on his face—like a Stantler in the headlights—wracking his brain for a way out of this. 

“Please?”

The whole world stopped. 

Not once, in the years and years that he’d known her, had Falkner _ever_ heard her use the word, “please”.

Janine was similar to Whitney, but a lot more forceful. If she wanted something, she’d go right up and get it, not having the patience to wait around for an answer. 

Now, however, she’d thrown the ball into his court, as if testing to see how he’d react. 

_Could-could she maybe…?_

Janine stared back at him, her eyes unblinking. 

When he didn’t respond right away, her gaze darkened. 

“Are you really going to make me say it?” She asked quietly. 

Falkner had no words, the ability to speak having completely left him at this point. 

Ever so slowly, he reached for her hand. 

Janine stiffened in surprise when the two made contact, but didn’t shy away. She kept her eyes locked on his the entire time. 

“Okay.” Falkner whispered, not really knowing what exactly it was he was saying, “okay” to. 

Maybe that _this_ was okay, _they_ were okay. 

He allowed her to lead him out to the dance floor, where a slow ballad started playing through the amplifiers. 

He rested his hands softly on her waist while she looped her own around his neck. 

They fit perfectly together, as though they’d been made to be two pieces of the same puzzle. 

“I suppose this isn’t so bad.” Falkner finally admitted. 

Janine shook her head. “No, certainly not as terrible as your debating skills.”

For the first time that night, Janine managed to pull a smile out of Falkner. 

“Shut up.”

Janine snorted, and inched herself closer to him, a silent confirmation that his feelings were returned. 

And if a half-drunk Misty and Whitney were in their own corner, high-fiving at the sight...well, no one had to know. 

**Author's Note:**

> *bows*


End file.
